


Take Care Of Him

by bovaria



Series: Take Care of Him [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dad!Dean, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Supernatural - Freeform, Uncle!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:14:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years ago, you sold your soul to a crossroads demon. Now, when your time has come, you desperately leave something in the Winchesters’ doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Care Of Him

Horror pulsed through you, the fear of soon facing invisible monsters that would make sure that you were hauled into the most horrible of places making you tremble uncontrollably. You performed a few breathing exercises, forcing yourself to cool down in order to drive and finally get to your one stop before death showed up at your doorstep. Your knuckles were white and your fingers were numb. You were gripping on to the steering wheel so tightly that it was the only thing that moored you to your current mission, to your reality.

“Mommy,” a small voice interrupted the turmoil inside you. “Where are we going?”

You inhaled deeply before speaking, glancing at the rearview mirror every now and then to look into your son’s eyes. “We’re going to Kansas, baby. Mommy has to do something and I’m going to drop you off at two of my best friends’ house, okay?”

“Mommy, I don’t wanna go,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wanna stay with you!”

“Oh, baby, I know,” you nibbled on your lower lip as you swerved to the right, taking the exit that would be taking you to the Winchesters’ place. It had taken you over a year to locate them, but after sleepless nights and snooping around wherever you could, you had finally located them. In Lebanon, Kansas was the one place you knew your son would be safe from all the perils that had haunted you since you were a kid. And you knew that once the Winchesters knew what was going on, your son would be left in good hands.

“Mommy, please don’t leave without me!” your son whined.

You cursed under your breath. Jacob had always been unbelievably smart for his young age and quite perceptive. He always knew when you were lying and caught you red-handed whenever you wanted to trick him in order to not divulge everything to him. “Jake, it’ll be okay,” you willed your voice not to break as you pressed your foot into the gas pedal. You had to get there soon, the growls and rattling of chains grew louder every minute.

It was as if Jake knew that if he spoke again, you’d shatter and your control would come crumbling down. He didn’t speak again, choosing to look out the window as the trees flitted by.

Ten years ago, you had knowingly made a deal with a crossroads demon in exchange for the life of your little brother. A hunt had come to a tragic end when the werewolf you were hunting down with him had grabbed him in a chokehold and you had watched helpless, chained to a post, how life had seeped out of his eyes while the creature cackled victoriously, waving your brother around like a rag doll.

The monster than tossed your brother aside when it was done with him and turned to you, splitting your chains apart before grabbing you by the neck. Its claws dug into your skin and you screeched out in pain, but you had already reached for the silver dagger you kept hidden. The werewolf howled as you plunged the blade into its chest, slumping down to the ground lifelessly. You rushed over to your brother’s body, but it was too late.

Desperation and loneliness began to rip through your chest, prompting you to scoop him up into your arms as best you could and hauling him towards the car. He was all muscle from hunting and with slight difficulty, you tossed his body into the backseat before driving off to the nearest crossroad you could find.

After almost pouncing on the red-eyed demon that met with you, not enduring its taunting and jokes, you managed to get your brother’s life back. The price of it was your own soul, to be collected ten years from that day. You said yes without hesitation, crying in elation when your brother woke up and embraced you tightly.

You never told him, nor anyone, what you had done that night. It was easy to forget about your ten years when all you had to do was hunt down monsters. But then, the unforeseeable happened. Your brother was kidnapped by a nest of vampires and was turned, by the time you swooped in to rescue him, it was too late and you had no option but to let him go.

It was then that you met Dean and Sam Winchester. You requested their aid, having heard of them through the mouths of hunters around the nation, in rescuing your brother and offing the nest of vamps. They didn’t immediately leave when you chose to off your baby brother yourself, choosing to remain with you and offer you their company and comfort, even inviting you to hunt alongside them for a few months.

Sam and you became close friends, laughing often and sharing researching notes until you knew everything he did and vice versa. On the other hand, it was Dean who got to know you intimately. His chest became your place of solace, where you dried your tears in the middle of the night as his fingers carded through your hair tenderly.

But then hunting grew even more grueling and the fights between Dean and you began to come by more frequently until you decided that it was best to just walk away. Dean never said a word of protest when you said goodbye to him and Sam. He only nodded gravely and awkwardly embraced you. However, it was already too late. You hadn’t been careful the last time you had slept with him and only a month later, you held in your hands the results of a pregnancy test.

You went into hiding as your belly grew, pretending to once again be normal and forgetting you ever had a hunting life to begin with. You gave birth to a beautiful baby boy that you named Jacob and focused solely on him. Yet you never forgot that five years later, your soul would be reaped unconditionally.

You sought help desperately, wherever you could, with whomever was willing to share information. But there was no way out. The clock was ticking and you had only limited time with your son. You chose to live out your last years with him to the maximum, taking him everywhere and making him laugh as much as you could. He slept in your arms and you made sure to always shower him with love and kisses, engraving in his memories how much you adored him.

Before you knew it, you only had three days left and it was time to prepare him to live somewhere else. You packed his favorites clothes and toys into a duffel bag, careful in not letting your tears show as you placed everything into the trunk of your car and buckled him in. You wrote Dean and Sam a quick letter into which you spilled all your heart and told them everything you could within the space of one sheet, tucking it into Jake’s pocket and requesting he give it to either one of the brothers.

You pulled up to a concrete building, breathing shakily as you climbed out of the car and opened the door for your baby boy. He smiled up at you and grabbed your hand as he clambered out, squeezing his tiny fingers around your own. You grinned down at him before walking to the vehicle’s trunk and taking out Jake’s duffel bag. You both made your way slowly towards the building’s entrance.

You sat him down on the stairs that took you down to the doorway, kneeling in front of him to cup his face. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you held back tears as you memorized the scent of him, his soft skin and how it felt to hold him close.

“I love you,” you whispered into Jacob’s skin. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too, mommy,” he hugged you, tiny hand patting your back comfortingly.

You pulled away from him to smile and thumbed his cheek tenderly. “Behave for Dean and Sam, okay? Show them that you’re smart and always trust them, they’re your friends.”

“When will you come back, mommy?” Jake tilted his head, emerald eyes twinkling curiously.

“Soon, baby, soon,” you promised. “Stay here, okay? The door will soon open. Mommy has to go.”

“Okay,” he nodded solemnly before leaning up and kissing your cheek, smiling comfortingly at you. He knew you were sad, but for some reason, chose not to comment on it. You ruffled his hair and hugged him close one last time before straightening yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you began to climb up the stairs and towards your car. You looked back only once, meeting eyes with him and sharing a smile. He waved at you and you could only meekly wave back. You forced yourself to climb into your car, start the engine, and pull away from the building, from your life, and your happiness. You knew this was for the best, but it still tore your heart into countless pieces.

You let yourself cry freely now, sobs bouncing back and forth in the car as you drove on, as fast as you could and as far away from Jacob and the Winchesters as possible. When you had put a good twenty miles between you and them, you finally called Dean.

 

* * *

 

Sam rubbed his temples in frustration. Research had gotten him nowhere and he was seriously contemplating tossing the book across the room. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing as he heard Dean’s rock music emanating from the garage. He was about to get up and complain to his big brother that the music was too loud when Dean’s phone began to ring. Your name was on the screen and Sam immediately picked up.

“Y/N? Hello?” he answered, a smile starting to make its way on his lips.

“S-Sam?” you sniffled.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah, are you at the bunker?”

“Yeah, I am—wait, how do you know about where we’re at?”

“Sam, you’re not the only good researcher,” you scoffed, to which Sam laughed softly.

“True. So, what’s up, Y/N?”

“Um, I left something for you outside the door. Can you promise me to take care of him?”

“What?”

“Just—he has a letter with him, it explains everything. I don’t have much time!”

“Okay, okay, calm down.”

“No, Sam. I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of him!”

Sam was already halfway up the stairs as you spoke, begging him to promise you that he’d take care of Jacob. Sam only stammered in response to which you groaned in aggravation. Then you heard a growl next to you and you screeched, hanging up on Sam.

“Hello? Hello!” Sam spoke into the phone, shaking his head as he saw that the call ended. He didn’t think twice about opening the door, something in him telling him that it wasn’t dangerous what you were requesting of him.

Sam froze as he laid eyes on what you had left behind. A pair of familiar green eyes looked up at him, shy yet curious. The boy wordlessly grabbed a letter from his pocket and handed it to Sam.

“Hey, buddy,” Sam knelt down in surprise, smiling at the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Jacob,” the boy sniffled, his nose red.

“Well, Jacob, would you like to come in?”

The boy only nodded, and so Sam held out his hand and Jacob took it without hesitation. After all, you had told him to trust Sam.

“I’m Sam,” Sam looked down at Jacob and smiled.

He walked down the stairs with the boy and sat him down on one of the chairs in the library. The boy was quiet as he looked around, curiosity and awe obvious in his expressive eyes. Sam squinted his eyes at him and realized just how familiar he looked.

“Oh, crap,” he muttered under his breath. He suddenly remembered the letter the kid had handed to him and tore it open. His eyes flew across the hastily-written scrawl, heart thundering in his chest as he took the words in.

“Hey, do you mind staying put for a sec?” he looked down at Jacob, receiving a nod of his head in response. Sam immediately dashed out of the room and sprinted across the halls until he arrived to the garage, breathless and chest heaving. He burst into the room without preamble and made his way towards Dean, who had just finished washing the Impala.

“What’s up, bro?” Dean grinned widely. “Something wrong?”

“Read,” Sam gasped, shoving the letter into Dean’s hands. Dean’s brow furrowed as he began to read.

 

* * *

 

“I-I have a son?” Dean said breathlessly, glancing up at Sam with the same wide-eyed expression Jacob had given him only a few minutes ago. Sam found it eerie and nodded his head.

“His name is Jacob, he’s in the library,” Sam answered.

Dean didn’t waste another second, brushing past his brother and striding across the bunker until he screeched to a halt once he got the library’s doorway. The sound that the soles of his shoes caused on the bunker’s floor prompted the boy to look up, and Dean’s entire world froze.

The very same eyes he so often saw staring back at him in the mirror were now part of a young boy’s face that bore similar features to him, but he could recognize the nose of the girl he loved so many years ago. He saw you in the boy’s hair, in the kid’s tapping of his fingers as he waited for someone to say something, too shy to speak up.

“Dean,” Sam interrupted his reverie and rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I think you should go talk to him.”

“S-Sam, what are we supposed to—”

“We’re all he has,” Sam spoke softly. He knew Jacob was old enough to understand and so he prudently said everything in a volume only Dean could hear. “Go meet him.” Sam pushed Dean towards the small boy.

Dean stumbled as he walked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he approached him. He nervously sat across from Jacob and smiled sheepishly, giving him a tiny wave. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Jacob mumbled, sniffling slightly and rubbing a small hand across his nose.

“Um, I’m Dean, you must be Jacob,” Dean leaned over the table, not quite believing that before him sat his son. He wanted to deny it, wanted to convince himself that you were lying, but Jacob’s eyes were a copy of his and the freckles splattered across the kid’s nose were the same that peppered Dean’s own.

“M-my mommy calls me Jake,” the boy said. “You can call me Jake, it’s my nickname.”

“Oh, okay, Jake, Jakey,” Dean chuckled.

“No, she called me _Jake_ ,” he said solemnly.

Sam snorted and Dean grimaced. “Oh, sorry,” great, he was starting on the wrong foot with his own son.

“So, Jake,” Sam approached the table and sat next to Jacob, smiling down at him. “I’m kinda hungry, are you?” That seemed to brightened him right up and Jacob nodded his head enthusiastically. Sam grinned and asked him what he would like for lunch.

“Burgers!” Jacob squealed. “Burgers and fries, and a chocolate milkshake!” he clapped his hands excitedly as Sam scoffed and shook his head, giving Dean a knowing look.

“Atta boy,” Dean found himself immensely proud on Jacob’s tastes and high fived him, the both of them getting on their feet excitedly. Sam resignedly following them and marveled at how fast they could see Dean’s traits in Jacob.

“Whoa! Cool car!” Jacob exclaimed as Dean unlocked the Impala’s doors. Dean beamed proudly and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“You like cars, buddy?” he asked as he held the door opened for the boy.

“Thank you,” Jacob said as he climbed into the backseat. “And yes! Cars are my absolute favorite! My mommy says that when I grow up, I am going to have my own car! I don’t know which one to get, there are just _so_ many choices.”

“I’ll help you pick,” Dean winked at him before moving to climb into the driver’s seat. Sam glared at him and looked down at Jacob pointedly. “What?” Dean looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“His seatbelt, make sure he has it on!” Sam said as he sat down in the passenger’s seat.

“Dude, seriously,” Dean rolled his eyes but still crouched down and grabbed the seatbelt, bucking Jacob up securely. Sam shot him a pleased smile and Dean got into the car with an indignant huff. He made a mental note to always buckle in Jacob before Sam could say anything about it.

Jacob was quiet on the way to the diner, choosing to stare out the window and marvel at the sky. Sam smiled softly at him and tried to wrap his head around the fact that you had a son that Dean would call his own, that he himself had a nephew. And suddenly he found himself becoming giddy at the thought of being called ‘uncle’. He had never dwelled on that thought, guessing that due to the life that Dean and him lived, there would never be wives nor kids for them, but the little boy in the backseat with his brother’s eyes and freckles said otherwise.

The three of them climbed out of the car and walked together towards the restaurant, Jacob in between the two tall men. He marveled at their heights, not really used to being around people as tall as them. Dean occasionally glanced down at him and they shared smiles that made Jacob temporarily forget that you weren’t around. The hostess guided them to a booth and Jake unconsciously chose to sit next to Dean.

Sam watched, amused, as they both chose the same hamburger and exchanged smiles when the waitress asked them what milkshake flavor they wanted. Dean nudged Jacob playfully as they laughed together at Sam, who ordered a salad and a smoothie.

“Mommy sometimes makes me eat smoothies,” Jacob wrinkled his nose. “I rather have milkshakes.”

“Oh, God, your mother and her healthy ways,” Dean shook his head, remembering just how rigorous you were with your eating habits. Apparently, that hadn’t been passed on to the boy and Dean seemed to have won in that field. Dean felt suddenly gloomy at the thought of you and where you were right about now, but he shook his head and focused on the small boy beside him.

“Dean,” Jacob looked up at him with curious eyes.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“When is my mommy coming back?” Jacob’s voice was small as he asked, tears starting to form in his emerald orbs.

“Uh…” Dean was at a loss for words as he gaped down at Jake. He glanced at Sam, who had stiffened in his seat, jaw clenched nervously. “W-Well, Jake, what did she tell you when she left, hm?” he put an arm around the boy and Jake leaned in close to him.

“She said,” the boy paused to sniffle, swiping at his nose. “She said she had to do something and that she was going to leave me with you, that you were my friends.”

“We are,” Dean grinned, pinching Jacob’s cheek, prompting a tiny smile from the kid.

“I miss my mommy,” Jake’s voice broke and he buried his face into Dean’s side, sobbing softly into his shirt.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, alright?” Dean stroked Jake’s head tenderly, holding him close as Jake cried. Dean felt his heart break with every sniffle from his son and leaned down to press a kiss on the crown of his head. “Sam and I are here for you, kiddo. We won’t leave you, I promise.”

A few minutes passed before Jake could sufficiently calm down to pull away from Dean. Sam handed Dean a napkin and pointed at his own cheeks before looking at Jake. Dean understood and began wiping at the boy’s face. Jake let himself be cleaned before straightening up in his seat and staring down at his lap, obviously feeling down despite having stop crying.

Sam was making to say something when the waitress approached the table, arms laden with three plates that she promptly set down in front of them. That seemed to brightened Jake’s mood right up and soon they were back to laughing and making jokes with the five-year old.

 

* * *

 

Even though they were successful in distracting Jake from missing you while being out of the bunker, it became quite challenging once they were back home. Dean grabbed the duffel bag you had packed up for Jake and showed him to his new room, conveniently next to Dean’s own. The boy was excited to have a room of his own and marveled at the contraptions he saw hanging on the walls.

Dean was about to walk out of the room to let Jake change into his pajamas when the boy shyly called his name. “Dean.”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“C-Can you help me put away my clothes? Mommy always does it for me,” he seemed to realized that he had forgotten all about you and suddenly Dean had to sit down and cradle a crying Jake in his arms as he sobbed out how much he missed you and wondered if you were ever going to be back.

Dean willed himself to not cry, his heart breaking for the one person that had unwillingly wrapped him around his pinky finger. He pressed his lips to Jake’s temple and kissed the skin softly, arms tight around the tiny body in his arms. Jake clung to Dean desperately, pleading him to not leave.

“I’m not going anywhere, son,” Dean promised.

“I miss my mommy!” Jake wailed.

It took Dean over an hour to calm the boy until his cries were reduced to hiccups and whimpers. Once he was sufficiently calm, Dean put him down and Jake silently retrieved his pajamas from his bag. He was too teary eyed to focus on what he was doing, and so Dean gently began to help him until Jake was clad in his Marvel pajamas and climbing back into Dean’s lap.

“C-Can I sleep with you tonight?” he looked up at Dean with doe eyes and Dean couldn’t say no. He nodded and got on his feet with the kid in his arms, walking towards his room. Jake drowned his cries for you in Dean’s embrace that night and for the following weeks.

 

* * *

 

The Winchesters easily accommodated Jake into their lives, surprised at the effortlessness in which the boy became the center of their worlds. Dean soon found out what it was to worry so much that he felt his heart stop when he lost Jake in the supermarket. Luckily, he found the boy basking in the attention of a two cashiers that had him propped up on the counter, making him laugh and giggling along with him. Dean approached him with a raised brow and crossed arms.

“What are you doing, buddy?” he asked, causing the two girls and Jake to quiet down and turn towards him.

“Oh, dad!” Dean felt his heart skip a beat and he swallowed thickly. “They are so funny! And they have candy! They helped me because I got lost and couldn’t find you.”

Jake kept talking as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t tilted Dean’s world on its axis by calling him ‘dad’. Dean swallowed thickly and pretended as if he heard a word the boy was saying as he smiled up at him excitedly. “And, and they were going to let me call you through this speaker thing,” he pointed at the microphone that was kept in the customer service station. “But then you walked here,” he looked mildly disappointed and Dean laughed softly.

“Sorry, buddy,” he said as he ruffled Jake’s hair, scooping him up from the counter. “Thank you for watching out for him,” he winked at the girls, who swooned at the gesture. Dean turned on his heels and walked back to the aisle where he had left the cart abandoned. He sighed in relief when he saw that no one had grabbed the stuff he had already gotten and sat Jake inside the cart after making space for him.

“But I wanna walk!” Jake pouted up at him.

“Well, I can’t afford to lose you again, kiddo,” Dean clicked his tongue. “So, you’re staying in the cart.”

“Dad!” Jake whined, crossing his arms.

“You’re really not going to throw a tantrum here, are you?” Dean groaned, glancing around as a few ladies stopped their shopping to glare at him.

“I want to walk!”

“Alright, fine, fine,” Dean lifted Jake up and out of the shopping cart, setting him down on the floor and pointing a finger at him. “But you will walk next to me. You have no idea how worried I was when I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake mumbled as he looked up at Dean.

“It’s okay, kid,” Dean sighed, ruffling his hair.

They began to walk down the aisle once again before Dean spoke up. “So, about you calling me ‘dad’. What’s that all about?” he raised his brows.

Jake rolled his eyes in exasperation before answering. “I’m not dumb, duh. I heard Uncle Sam talk about how we like the same food and-and that we have the same eyes, and we do, dad! I looked in the mirror and remembered how my eyes look, and then, and then I saw yours and they were like mine! You are my dad!”

“Jesus, kid, you’re way too smart for your age,” Dean scoffed. “But yes, you’re right. I’m your dad. Are you okay with that?” he asked nervously.

“Yes!” Jake’s arms shot up in the air momentarily before they were wrapping around Dean. Dean laughed softly as he hugged Jake back, patting the kid’s back. They pulled away after a few seconds and continued with their grocery shopping.

 

* * *

 

The years passed and Jake eventually stopped asking his father and uncle about you. Dean was somewhat glad that he had stopped, but he was also scared that Jake was forgetting you. His fears were confirmed when Jake had just turned eight and Dean was tucking him into bed.

“Alright, kid, you sleep well,” he pressed a kiss to Jake’s forehead.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Dad, it’s getting harder to remember mom’s face,” Jake rubbed at his eye with his fisted hand. “I don’t remember her voice anymore. I used to dream about her and now I don’t,” Dean swallowed thickly as Jake’s voice took on a note of desperation and sadness. “I d-don’t remember her hugs anymore, dad. She always smelled so nice and I can’t remember. What do I do to remember her?” He thumped his palm against his forehead repeatedly until Dean had to stop him with a hand around his thin wrist.

“Hey, hey, that’s not your fault, Jake,” Dean spoke sternly, yet gently. It was his dad voice and Sam often teased him about it. “When time goes by, you start forgetting things. It’s perfectly normal for all of us.”

“But I don’t want to forget her,” Jake whimpered, nuzzling into Dean’s side.

“I’m going to tell you everything I know about her, okay?” Dean smiled down at Jake.

“Okay.”

“Alright, kiddo, make some space for your old man,” Dean groaned as Jake scooted to the other side of the bed. Once Dean was comfortable, he threw himself into Dean’s arms and laid his head on his broad shoulder. “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything!”

“Your mom was beautiful,” Dean thumbed Jake’s cheek and smiled softly. “She smelled like strawberries and her hair was soft. She had a contagious laughter. Once we laughed for almost an hour, nonstop, all because she started laughing at something and soon she had me laughing at her laugh,” Dean chuckled as Jake giggled into his chest.

And like that, it became custom for Dean to lie down with Jake, telling him stories about you until the kid fell asleep. It was how Jake dealt with the guilt of forgetting you. He made Dean re-tell him stories over and over again, laughing despite the jokes being old and smiling at everything Dean told him about you.

But the inevitable came true and Jake eventually forgot your features, your laugh, and even the love you had doted on him when he was but only five. Dean and Sam always made a point of mentioning you as often as they could, but Jake couldn’t remember, no matter how hard he tried. Dean found himself regretting not even taking a single picture of you when you and him were together.

The years passed by and Jake became more of a Winchester than he ever was a part of you. Dean began to train him in handling weapons and self-defense on his twelfth birthday under the excuse that they would never know if the day came when Jake was forced to defend himself without Dean nor Sam there to protect him.

So far, the Winchesters had been successful in concealing the boy and only Castiel was the supernatural creature that knew of his existence. They were extremely over-protective and it exploded in Dean’s face one day when Jake was 16.

He had been wanting to go out with friends from school, even confessing to his uncle Sam that there was a girl that he liked and was wanting to make a move on her in the movies. Despite Sam’s insistence that Dean should let him go out, Dean vehemently refused to.

“You’re always so freaking suffocating!” Jake screeched at Dean, hands curling into fists.

“You know that you’re not like your other classmates, boy!” Dean towered over his son, but that had long ceased to intimidate Jake.

“Of course not, I’m a freak,” Jake scoffed. “My mom abandoned me when I was five to my father, who didn’t even know about my existence, and he hunts monsters for a living. Of course you’d want to keep me hidden! I’m not normal!”

“Your mother did not abandon you,” Dean pointed a threatening finger to Jake’s face. “That was the last thing she wanted to do!”

“Oh, and you know so much about that?” Jake rolled his eyes. “You weren’t there with her!”

“That’s it,” Dean stomped out of the room, leaving a panting Jake behind as he made his way into his bedroom and shuffled through his belongings. After a few minutes, he finally located what he was looking for and walked back into the library, where Jake had sat down and was glaring up at him with his arms crossed.

Dean opened the letter and laid it flat in front of Jake, who glared up at his dad before his eyes flitted down to the paper. He began to read reluctantly, but after a few sentences, his face began to soften. He leaned on the table, fingers desperately grabbing on to the yellowing paper as he submerged himself in your writing.

Jake read with tears in his eyes how much you loved him, how much you wanted Dean and Sam to take care of him and protect him with their lives. He sobbed as he got to the last part, where you wrote about how much you loved him despite being forced to leave him behind. He wiped at his nose as he finished and looked up at Dean.

“I-Is she still—” he choked up at the words, not being able to say them.

“I don’t know,” Dean answered sincerely, tears streaking down his cheeks as he walked over to his son and scooped him up into his embrace. It was as if Jake was five years old again and Dean was comforting him that very first night where he cried himself to sleep missing you.

After long minutes, they pulled away from each other and sat side by side, Dean’s arm still wrapped around Jake’s shoulders as Jake re-read your letter. His tears continue sliding down his face as he tried with all his might to remember you, but to no avail. Jake felt helpless.

Finally, he pulled away from Dean and got on his feet. “I’m g-going to go to bed,” he mumbled, sniffling.

“Okay, kid,” Dean smiled comfortingly up at him, his own eyes red.

“Thanks, dad.”

Jake was about to walk out of the room when Sam came bursting in, hair a mess and chest heaving. Dean got on his feet and he looked at his younger brother in alarm.

“Uncle Sam? Is everything alright?” Jake asked worriedly.

“Y/N,” Sam panted. “Y/N came back.”

 

* * *

 

“What?” Dean shot up from his chair, shoulders tensing as he chanced a glance at Jake.

“How’s that possible?” Jake gaped at Sam. “If she’s out of hell… Dad was taken out of Hell, I remember you telling me,” he glanced at Dean. “But—Dad, is she—”

“We don’t know that yet, Jake,” Dean placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezing comfortingly before turning towards Sam. “How did you find out about this?”

“She called me… she says she wants to meet up with us at a warehouse just twenty minutes out from here,” Sam’s voice wavered.

“I wanna go,” Jake said firmly.

“Fuck, no, you’re not going,” Dean scoffed.

“Dad, it’s mom—”

“And we don’t know what state she’s in, Jake,” Dean shook his head. “I am not risking you. For all we know, she’s sporting black eyes and has a penchant for ganking everyone she sees.”

“Are you implying she’s a demon?” Jake couldn’t believe what Dean had said.

“That’s the only option I see for having her come out of hell, son,” Dean muttered.

“She’s my mom!” Jake bellowed.

“And you’re _my_ son!” Dean’s head snapped to glare at Jake. “And I say that you stay here! We’re going to bring her back here and once we know it’s safe, you’ll be able to see her.”

“Fuck, what good was all that gun training and self-defense lessons if I don’t get to use them, huh?” Jake’s voice rose in tandem to his ire and frustration.

“It was for ‘just in case’ situations,” Dean explained, beginning to follow Sam to the bunker’s garage, grabbing his keys and jacket on the way there. Jake trailed, hot at his heels. “This ain’t no ‘just in case’ situation.”

“Nothing is for you!” Jake stomped his foot on the ground. “Just let me go!”

“No,” Dean’s voice was final, glaring at his son and daring him to challenge Dean. Jake defied Dean sometimes, but he knew his father’s limits, and so he stomped out of the garage and slammed the door to his room. Dean blew his cheeks up and glanced at Sam, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Remember us at that age?” Sam shook his head, smiling despite the tension in the air.

“I remember _you_ at that age,” Dean snorted, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Guess my nephew is somewhat similar to me after all,” Sam chuckled.

“You don’t say,” Dean muttered, pulling out of the garage and onto the gravel road.

Within twenty-five minutes, the Winchesters were stepping into a ramshackle warehouse, the soles of their boots disrupting the thick layer of dust that had settled over the years of the building’s abandonment. They adopted a relaxed stance, trying to show you that they somewhat trusted you, but you weren’t up to playing their games. You knew they were armed and so you emerged from the shadows, smirk in place and a laugh that sent chills running down their spines.

Dean’s eyes widened at the sight of you. It was definitely your face, your eyes, your nose, the same features he remembered falling in love with. You looked the same you had the last time he’d seen you. But there was an obvious twist to you, a dangerous, dark look that made him want to recoil and run out of the warehouse.

“I look stunning, don’t I, Dean-o?” you snickered, continuing to approach them until you were only a few feet away from them. “Twelve years have passed and I have not changed one bit,” you stroke your hands against your torso slowly, sneering at Dean. “Well, except for these,” you flashed them black eyes before blinking and having them return to your original color. “But, I consider these an improvement.”

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice stuttered as he tried to process the fact that you were standing before them.

 “Come on, boys,” you scoffed. “Pick up your jaws from the floor and let’s hug it out.”

“You wish,” Dean gritted his teeth at you.

“Oh, you got some vim left in you after all,” you raised a brow at him before crossing your arms over your chest. “Let me ask you, where’s the brat I dropped off at your doorstep? Did you manage to not get him killed, Dean?” you taunted. “After all, you do have that knack of having everyone around you die.”

“Y/N, I know that this is not you,” Sam stepped forward, hands held out in surrender. “We can help you.”

“You haven’t changed, I see,” you snorted, rolling your eyes and stepping back, putting some distance between you and the Winchesters. “Always a little bitch, Sammy, trying to help others when you can’t even help yourself.”

Dean lunged at you, but you expertly avoided his grip, twirling on the heel of your foot to land a kick on his back. He turned around just in time to grip your leg and toss you to the ground. You grunted as your back hit the floor and roared in defiance as both men straddled your arms before you could think of flinging them to the walls with a flick of your wrist.

“How did you get out?” Dean gritted his teeth as Sam struggled to grab the handcuffs he had stuffed into his back pockets. On the metal were engraved symbols that would keep you from escaping and they were basically the Winchester’s only hope in being able to subdue you and take you back to the bunker.

“Well, wouldn’t you like to know?” you scoffed.

“Tell me!” he demanded, slamming your arm down on the concrete floor. You laughed manically before the sound turned into a growl as the men brought your wrists together and locked the chains on you. You threw your fists at them, but they had more than a hundred pounds on you and you were still a young demon, you didn’t possess the strength that some of the others had.

“Come on,” Dean grunted as he pulled you up to stand with him. “We’re going home.”

“Let me go,” you clenched your jaw, refusing to be dragged by them.

“I swear, if you don’t move, I will drag you out of this place,” Dean promised with a scoff. You responded with an expletive and Dean rolled his eyes, taking a hold of your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You fought to get down, slamming your hands on his lower back, but to no avail. The panic began to really seep in when you saw Sam open the trunk of the Impala and you recognized the Devil’s Trap drawn on the roof. You struggled against Dean’s hold, but the handcuffs around your wrists had a firm hold of you and you glare at the brothers as your back hit the floor of the trunk.

You screamed your lungs out, kicking and flailing your limbs against the resounding metal, but you could hear Dean raising the volume of his music, which only served to make you angrier. However, your torment didn’t last long, twenty minutes later you were being hauled out of the car. You sneered at Sam as he pulled you to stand up.

“Over so soon?”

“We’re home, Y/N,” he smiled down at you. “You’re going to be alright.”

“I’ll be alright once you buffoons let me go,” you grunted, trying to escape from his grip. His hold tightened on your upper arm and you had no choice but to let yourself be dragged towards whatever place he was taking you to.

“Dad?”

“Jake, go to your room,” Dean spoke from behind you.

“Dad, do you have her?” your head shot up and your eyes landed on the form of a tall, lean teenager. Your eyes met and the boy inhaled sharply. “M-Mom?”

It clicked in your mind and you chuckled. “So, you’re the little brat I got rid of way back when?”

“Your mother’s a demon,” Dean quickly explained. “Go back to your room, Jake.”

“No, I want to help!” the boy stomped his foot on the ground stubbornly.

“No, you will stay in your room and let me and your uncle take care of this!” Dean’s voice rose.

“I wanna help!”

“Dean, I’ll take her to the dungeons,” Sam turned towards his brother. “You can talk to Jake.”

“Alright,” Dean nodded his head before striding towards Jake, who was already beginning to walk over to you, his chest heaving and tears welling up in his eyes.

“Lookin’ good, kid,” you winked at Jake as Dean began to pull him away. “Bet you’re as pathetic as your good-for-nothing dad. Am I right, Dean?”

“Come on, son,” Dean grasped Jake’s elbow and dragged him away. You clicked your tongue, lips parting to offer another comment when Sam tugged at you, pulling you with him towards another room.

“Easy, Sam, thought you were a gentleman,” you grunted as he flung you into a dark room.

“We’re going to cure you,” Sam said in a soft voice as he made you sit down on a chair, unlocking the metal handcuffs and replacing them with ropes. You smiled at the thought of overpowering him and getting a chance to escape, but when you tried to move, an invisible wall stopped you.

“What the—”

“There’s no use trying to move,” Sam shook his head, tightening the ropes before moving away from you. “There’s a devil’s trap on the ground. You can’t move from here.”

“Let me go,” you bared your teeth menacingly at him.

“It’ll be over soon,” Sam muttered before turning on his heels, turning off the light and closing the door behind himself. You screeched in anger.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t understand why I can’t help?” Jake shook his head in disbelief.

“Because she will hurt you,” Dean sighed, tiredly rubbing at his temples. “Because it’s best that you don’t have any contact with her until we cure her.”

“But she’s my mom, dad,” Jake’s eyes began to tear up. “And-and I feel like I owe her at least that.”

“I-I can’t,” Dean shook his head, fingers curling into the palms of his hands.

“Dad—”

“Hey,” Sam stood by the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “She’s in the dungeons, we only need to get purified blood and we can start to cure her.”

“I want you to use my blood,” Jake said firmly.

“Jake, no,” Sam began.

“No, uncle Sam, dad,” he gave a look to each of the men. “I have to do this. This is my mom. Just tell me what to do.”

“Fuck, you’re as stubborn as her, no?” Dean scoffed.

“Please, dad,” Jake begged. “Please let me do this.”

“Fine, we’re going to have to take you to confession,” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose before getting on his feet and making his way towards Jake. “But you will let your uncle and me do the curing, you will not interfere.”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Jake nodded gravely. “I won’t.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean patted Jake’s shoulder and the three men left the bunker.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, you glared at the opening door of the dungeon with onyx eyes, lips parting to reveal a menacing sneer. It was Sam and Dean, their arms laden with vials of red liquid.

“Well, aren’t you two such gentlemen,” you snorted. “Finally deemed me worthy enough to visit.”

“We’re going to cure you,” Sam informed you.

“Cure? There’s nothing to cure,” you snorted through your nostrils. “I’m as good as I ever have been!”

“It’ll only take a few hours, but by the end of the day, you’ll be alright,” Sam spoke as Dean brought forward a metal table, setting down everything he had been carrying. You glared at them and struggled against your binds.

“Let me go,” you growled.

“Sorry, Y/N,” Dean shook his head. “No can do.”

“I swear that I will tear you both limb from limb if you don’t let me go,” you snapped your teeth as Sam approached with a syringe in hand. Despite your struggles, Sam slammed the needle down on your arm and all you could feel was searing pain pulsing into your veins. Your head pulled back and you howled in pain.

“It’s okay, Y/N, only seven more to go,” Sam smiled.

“Would you stop it with the pussy shit?” you groaned. “Goddammit, it’s tiring and those puppy dog eyes… Dude, find a new look.”

“Sam, you should take a break,” Dean placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and smile reassuringly. “I’ll take care of this.”

“You sure—”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Dean shot him a tight smile before promptly kicking Sam out of the dungeon. The door slammed and Dean turned to glare at you.

“Well, well, well, it looks like it only us now,” you winked flirtatiously.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Dean shook his head.

“You know, you look old for your age,” you clicked your tongue. “What are you now? 45? 46? Damn, Dean, you’ve actually managed to stay alive that long? I’m impressed.”

You kept your eyes trained on Dean as he strode back and forth across the room. On your lips was etched a smirk as you continued to talk. “Tell me, how did you keep that pathetic boy alive?”

“I said, shut up!”

“Oh, ho, that got your panties up in a twist, I see,” you laughed, pulling your head back in delight. “He means something to you? I bet it was quite a nasty surprise to find out about him. Is he the only son you have? Knowing how fucking promiscuous you are and how you don’t possess the ability to keep it in your pants, you must have a few bastards here and there.”

“Y/N, I swear—” Dean leapt at you and held a knife to your throat.

“This is a touchy subject, isn’t it?” you asked, delighted.

“D-Dad?” a shaking voice made Dean and you start. Your eyes flitted to the opened doorway where Jake now stood.

“Oh, look who decided to join in on the party!” you squealed. “Hi, Jake! I don’t think you remember me, but I’m the one woman who was supposed to take care of you, but…” you clicked your tongue, shaking your head. “I didn’t want to, so I just left you at your dad’s doorstep and went ahead and got a life.”

“I know that’s not you really talking,” Jake’s jaw clenched and you giggled eagerly.

“This is not really me?” you gasped. “Of course this is the real me! This is as real as I get, dear. I loathed you. I hated that you were born and that I had to take care of a brat that couldn’t even wipe himself. You took my liberty away.”

“Be quiet!” Dean dug the tip of the blade to your jaw, almost piercing through the skin.

“T-That’s not true,” Jake shook his head vehemently. “I read your letter. You love me! You didn’t want to leave me. And my dad—”

“Your dad?” you scoffed. “Your dad’s a fucking liar. For all we know, he probably wrote that letter himself. What else has he lied to you about? That he loved you? Ha! Dean Winchester,” you shot Dean a pointed glare. “Why must you lie to our little brat like that? You’re not capable of loving anyone but yourself. You’re a selfish prick after all.”

“You’re not yourself,” Jake gritted his teeth. “This isn’t you. You loved me!”

“Oh, God, please don’t,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “I really didn’t, boy.”

 

* * *

 

Time dragged on as Dean continued to administer the blood doses every hour. You screeched in pain, thrashing in your chair, with every plunge of the needle, but it didn’t deter Dean from continuing the task at hand.

At one point, Jake walked out of the dungeons, being too overwhelmed by your taunting and you felt something tug at your chest. You shook it off and went back to sneering at Dean, intimidating him with unimaginable things if he didn’t let you go. He pressed on and continued the job, learning to pay no heed to your words even though they threatened to tear through his control.

When it was time for the last dose, Dean momentarily stepped out of the room and returned after five minutes with Jake and Sam. You glanced up them, vision blurring. The blood was dizzying you and you felt yourself losing command of your consciousness.

“Alright, kid,” Dean sighed and placed a syringe into Jake’s palm. “This is the last dose. You remember what you’re supposed to say?”

“Y-yeah,” Jake muttered in a shaky voice. His chest puffed out and his green eyes landed on your frail form. He felt his heart thunder in his chest as he approached you and he couldn’t help but to smile. You were so close to being back to normal.

“H-Hey, mom,” he knelt right in front of you. “We’re almost done.”

“Leave me alone,” you spat at him. You glared viciously at him as he got on his feet and closed his eyes.

“Jake?” Sam questioned behind him.

“It’s okay, I can do this,” Jake said. “I can do this,” he let out a breath he had been holding and directed the sharp needle to your skin. You wailed in pain as the blood entered your veins and suddenly all you could hear was Jake’s voice as he began to recite the incantation.

Your head lulled from side to side as Jake continued to speak. You thrashed briefly before going completely still and the last words he spoke hung in the air. Dean and Sam both stiffened their shoulders simultaneously as Jake knelt in front of you, his hands rising to cup your face.

“M-Mom,” he whimpered. “Mom, please be alive, please tell me you’re okay.”

Your eyelids fluttered and Jake saw as the black dissipated. You inhaled sharply at the sight of him before losing consciousness.

 

* * *

 

You grappled with an abysmal darkness that threatened to swallow you whole. Your fingers slipped through goo, your lips parting to scream, but it was useless. You were stuck in a void. Your eyes darted everywhere, trying to find a way out, trying to see a light amidst the perpetual black. It all seemed infinite and you felt your sanity begin to tear at the seams. Then your world began to grow grey and light began to pour in…

You gasped, inhaling deeply and startling the three other people in the room. Your fingers tore at your neck, nails scratching against your skin as you began to remember how to breathe, how to regain control of your body once again.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay, sweetheart,” a deep voice to your right grabbed the hand clawing at your chest and held it tightly away from you. “It’s alright, you’re fine.”

You groaned, hanging your head until your chin was touching your sternum. You shut your eyes close tightly, trying to figure out what had happened, why you were being surrounded by familiar faces that sounded and looked so real.

You wailed in pain as the memories came flooding in. You remembered being promised your old body back in exchange for information about the Winchesters, being twisted and beaten raw until there was no trace of humanity left in you, you agreeing to betray the only humans you could have trusted with your life when you were alive.

Your head snapped up and you opened your eyes to look around the room you were in. Three men stood surrounding the bed you had been tucked into. They were all looking at you eagerly and you recognized two of them.

“D-Dean? Sam?” you gaped.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam smiled softly at you, leaning over to pat your leg softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, apart from the raging headache threatening to drive me to insanity, I’m doing alright,” you cringed, prompting a few chuckles from the men.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean’s deep voice caused you to look to your right and you laid eyes on the man you had loved so long ago. “Nice to have you back.”

“Dean,” your hand rose automatically and came to rest on his cheek. “Hey.”

Someone cleared their throat to your left and you looked at a young teenager awkwardly looking at you. He gave you a tiny, shy smile and a wave. “Hi, mom.”

You inhaled sharply. Of course this was _him_. He was a carbon copy of Dean. “J-Jacob?”

“Mom,” he got on his feet to lean down and embrace you tightly. You earnestly returned the hug and squeezed him tightly to you, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You laughed breathlessly, not quite believing that you had made it out of this unscathed. It all seemed too good to be true, but you resolved to not focus on that dark thought and held your son.

“Oh, my God, you’re so handsome,” you scoffed in disbelief, cupping his jaw and kissing his nose softly. “And so tall. Are you as tall as Sam?”

“Y-Yeah,” Jake laughed while trying to hold back his tears. “I’m taller than dad. Uncle Sam and I make fun of him all the time.”

Dean rolled his eyes and snorted, provoking you to burst out laughing. The three men subsequently join your peals and soon, you were all wiping tears away from your eyes. Everyone eventually quieted down and flashbacks of the harsh words you had said came running back to you. You winced and shook your head.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked softly, placing a warm hand on yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you glanced up at him before your eyes turned to Sam and then to Jacob’s. “I’m so sorry for everything I said. I’m—”

“Hey, we know that wasn’t your fault,” Sam took a seat on your bed and rubbed a hand on your knee. “We’ve been dealing with demons basically our whole lives, Y/N. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, Y/N,” Dean smiled comfortingly. “We all know it wasn’t really you doing the talking.”

“I still wish I could take it all back,” tears began to form in your eyes and you glanced up at the ceiling to try to prevent them from brimming over.

“Hey, we’re all going to forget about what happened yesterday,” Sam tapped your knee. “It’s fine.”

You bit down on your lower lip, deciding not to argue against their vehement pleas for you to forget about what you had said to them while being a demon and decided to focus on Jake instead. You turned to him and smiled softly.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you murmured. “I’m sorry that I left and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to watch you grow into such a handsome, young man.”

“That’s okay, mom,” Jake took your hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.

Dena got on his feet, announcing that he’d be in charge of making dinner while Jake stepped out of the room saying he needed to take a shower. Sam smiled as the two of you were left alone and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m glad to have you back, Y/N,” he said.

“Thank you, for everything you have done, Sam,” you squeezed his forearm.

“It’s no problem, you know that Dean and I will always be here for you,” he stroked your hair from your face. “Want to go to the living room and watch some T.V.?”

“Sounds great,” you agreed, letting him help you up on your feet and lead the way.

 

* * *

 

Two days passed by peacefully, in which you got to know Jacob all over again and rekindled your love with Dean. Despite seventeen years having transpired, he still left a trail of heat wherever he touched you. Your eyes met quite often with his green ones and the looks he gave you were nothing short of smoldering and promising.

One night, you were beginning to pluck up the courage to step into his room and flirt a little when you heard a door slam, followed by angry, loud voices. You cringed and stepped into what Sam had told you was the library, eyes widening in fear at what you saw.

Dean and Jake stood nose-to-nose, chests heaving in ire and clenched fists shaking. They were arguing and you glanced around to notice that Sam was nowhere to be seen. Your hands trembled as you crossed your arms and tried to maintain yourself in check. It’d be no use to stop them from arguing if you couldn’t even control yourself.

“You are _not_ going out. Do you understand me?” Dean slammed his fist on the table.

“I am going out!” Jake declared. “You can’t keep me in this fucking prison forever.”

“It’s dangerous out there, Jake, don’t you fucking get it?” Dean threaded fingers through his hair in frustration. “Your mother just got cured and there’s probably legions of demons trying to find her. We have to lay low.”

“Look, dad, I get that you’re trying to protect me, but I feel like I’m dying of suffocation,” Jake shook his head. “Plus, no demon knows about me. For all we know, they only know about mom being with you two.”

“I am not risking that,” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply as his eyes focused on you.

“D-Dean,” your voice was hoarse as you spoke, a tinge of nervousness in it. Their heads snapped to look at you and immediately, their icy glares softened.

“Hey, I’m sorry about the racket, sweetheart,” Dean grinned sheepishly. “Um—”

“You should just let him go out,” you smiled softly at him, walking over to him and taking his hand in both of yours. “He’s 16 and he’s right, you shouldn’t keep him in here all the time. I’d also go crazy.”

“B-But, it’s danger—”

“I know, but I trust that you’ve trained him well,” you raised a challenging brow at him.

Dean snorted and shook his head affectionately at you. “Of course I trained my son well.”

“Exactly, so he’ll be fine,” you turned to look at Jake and winked, prompting a wide smile from him.

“Fine,” Dean sighed out before pointing a finger at Jake and speaking in a stern voice. “But be back by midnight, no later, not even a minute.”

“Deal,” Jake nodded before turning to you. His arms wrapped around you and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thanks, mom.”

“Take care,” you stroke his cheek lovingly. “And be back at midnight like your dad told you.”

“Will be,” with one last smile, Jake turned on his heels and walked out.

There was a moment of silence before you made your way to stand next to Dean, sighing softly. “Guess it’s just you and me now,” you winked up at him.

“Yeah,” he gave you a tight-lipped smile, eyes darting to the door.

“Oh, Dean, come on, he’ll be fine,” you rested a hand on his arm.

“I just—doesn’t he seem _off_ to you?” he inquired, tilting his head slightly.

“I wouldn’t know,” you smiled sadly, looking at your feet. “I don’t know him as well as you do.”

Dean sighed at his words, closing his eyes briefly before turning towards you and nudging you chin up with his fingers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that—”

“I know you didn’t,” you reassured him, pushing his shoulder playfully. “What do you say you and I catch up on some movies I’ve missed over the last years?”

“That’s a lot of catching up to do,” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and you felt a shiver run down your spine. He moved in closer to you, his head leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You sighed out in pleasure, elated to finally feel Dean’s mouth against your own. After pressing a few more kisses on your mouth, Dean pulled away and grinned softly, stroking your cheekbone with his calloused thumb.

“I’m gonna head to bed, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You should, too.”

You wanted him to invite you into his room, finding yourself too mortified to ask him yourself, and gnawed on your bottom lip before reacting. “Oh… Oh! Okay, yeah,” you cleared your throat. “Goodnight, then, Dean.”

You gave him a forced smile before turning around and scurrying out of the room, completely embarrassed. Dean bit the inside of his cheek as you walked away, wanting to do nothing more than ask you to spend the night with him, relive those moments that had happened more than 17 years ago. But there were more pressing things to worry about and Dean had a feeling that Jake hadn’t been completely honest with him just then.

As stealthily as he could, Dean grabbed his keys and jacket, tiptoeing out of the bunker and into the garage. He quickly climbed into Impala and pulled out his phone. He sighed in relief as he located the GPS application, having turned on Jake’s location once he began to suspect that something was up with his son and pulled out of the garage and onto the road. Halfway there, he realized that Jake wasn’t where he said he was going to be and dialed Sam’s number. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sam, I need your help.”

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” Sam grunted and Dean cringed, knowing he had interrupted Sam’s night out.

“Uh… sorry for interrupting whatever you’re up to, man,” Dean groaned as he swerved to the right, following his phone’s map. “But I think Jake is up to something and it’s nothing good. He’s in the middle of a nowhere with supposed friends, but I don’t think—”

“I’m on my way,” Sam stated before hanging up. He quickly glanced at the woman in bed with him, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Is something wrong?” she questioned.

“I actually have to go,” Sam shot her a quick smile before getting on his feet and scrambling for his shirt. “Family emergency.”

“Oh, well—”

The woman couldn’t say anything else, Sam had already walked out of there. He also knew Jake inside out. He knew something was up with the teenager but had only expressed his suspicions to Dean. They were keeping an eye on him while you got better, not wanting to alarm you into thinking things were going wrong. Sam quickly clambered into the car and sped out of the motel’s parking lot.

 

* * *

 

Dean approached the abandoned lot. A building similar to the one you had occupied as a demon stood before him, paint peeling and sign hanging loosely by the main entrance. He texted Sam and asked for his location, sighing in relief when Sam’s headlights approached.

Both men got out of their cars simultaneously and met at the entrance of the building. They shared worried looks and fetched their knives. With a series of signals, they were able to quickly form a plan of attack and quietly stepped into the dilapidated building. It was eerily quiet and Dean’s heart sank. He had a feeling that whoever had been in there already knew they were coming.

There was a rattle to their left and both men jumped, poised to attack whomever struck at them. Sam rolled his eyes as he saw a rat dart away.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Winchesters themselves,” a cold voice made Dean and Sam scramble to find cover, only for their eyes to land on the lone figure standing in the middle of the warehouse.

“J-Jake?” Dean asked, breathless with disbelief.

“Jake isn’t here at the moment,” Jake’s face distorted into a malevolent sneer. “Would you like to leave a message, dad?”

“What do you want?” Sam squared his shoulders, glaring at the demon.

“Well, I mostly want all of the Winchesters dead, but,” it clicked its tongue. “I have to abide by my master’s rules. But I don’t doubt I’ll get to see the life seep out of you lot soon enough.”

“Alright, look, I think we can come to a deal,” Dean dropped his knife as he approached his possessed son. “If we come with you, can you let this young man go?”

“Let a Winchester go?” the demon snorted. “As if. I’ve hit the jackpot. Do you know the reward that awaits me?”

“Please, you can do whatever you want with us,” Dean sighed tiredly. “But let him go.”

“I can’t do that,” the creature shook his head, looking always pitiful before sneering and snapping his fingers. Six other demons emerged from the shadows and began to close in on the Winchesters.

“Jake is screaming inside,” the demon cackled. “He’s throwing quite a tantrum, it’s entertaining.”

“Leave him alone!” Dean roared. The creature made to cringe only to erupt into maniacal giggles.

“Why don’t you just drop the façade of caring for your boy, Dean? I mean, we all know that you don’t care for anyone. Jakey here has shown me just how much you despise him, treating him like a fool and a prisoner. A boy his age needs to go out and have fun, and yet you leave him in that place you call a home and pretend as if nothing’s wrong with the way you treat him. You’re pathetic.”

“You don’t know anything,” Sam growled.

“Oh, and you do?” the demon gasped before snorting loudly. “Uncle Sam who thinks that by sacrificing himself, he can redeem all the wrong things he has done. Oh, please, no one can forgive you for what you’ve done, the blood you have spilled, the countless lives that have been lost because of you.”

“Stop!” Dean screamed, tears making way down his cheeks. “We’ll do anything, just stop!”

“Take them!” the demon commanded. It was only a few seconds and both Winchesters lunged at the demons closing in on them. Dean hit the ground with one of the demons, pinning the creature belly down and plunging the knife into its back. Having no time to make sure the weapon had done its job, Dean focused on another demon attacking him.

Dean could hear Sam’s grunts, struggling to keep the demons from annihilating either one of them. Dean impatiently stabbed the demon’s neck before turning towards the spot where Jake had been standing.

“D-Dad,” Jake’s voice took him back to when the teenager was six years old and afraid of what was in his closet.

“Jake, hold on,” Dean kicked at one of his attackers, leaving the killing to Sam and approached his son. “It’s alright,” he cupped Jake’s face, smiling comfortingly as he panted.

“No,” Jake’s voice was suddenly steely and Dean jerked back. But it was too late, the demon’s fist had connected with Dean’s jaw and the knife clattered on the ground as it fell several feet from Dean’s collapsed form.

The demon climbed on top of Dean, landing punches whenever it could. Dean struggled against it, flung his arms whichever way to avoid getting hit, grunting in pain when a particular punch jabbed at his nose. Dean knew he could overpower the demon, but this was Jake’s body and he couldn’t hurt his son like that.

All of a sudden, the punches ceased. Reluctantly, Dean brought his arms down from his face and glanced up. His heart sank as he recognized Jake. He had somehow obtained control of his body and was unfurling his fingers from the tight fists that had been striking at Dean.

“S-Son,” Dean rasped out.

“Dad,” Jake sobbed. “Dad, I can’t fight him for so long.”

“Jake…”

“Dad, I love you. I love mom. I love Uncle Sam. I-I couldn’t have asked for someone better to raise me.”

“N-No, no, no, no, Jake!”

It was too late. Jake had thrown himself on the floor and grabbed Ruby’s knife, sinking it into his stomach. Dean cried out as the demon within Jake crackled and glowed before it was gone. Dean crawled over to his teenage son, scrambling to gather him into his arms and stroke hair back from his face.

“Jake, son, you gotta stay with me,” Dean begged, tears falling from his eyes and on Jake’s forehead.

“D-Dad,” Jake spluttered, smiling up at his father. “D-Dad, I love you.”

“No, no, you can’t—Sam! Sam, call an ambulance! No, Jake, you gotta hold on!” Dean brought him close to his chest, crying into Jake’s hair.

Jake tried to stay awake, tried to not give into the darkness blurring out his vision, but it was futile. He promised he’d close his eyes for only a few seconds and everything turned black.

 

* * *

 

_Dean pressed the gauze to Jake’s skin, smiling comfortingly at the teenager. “Alright, son, we’re done. Your uncle and I are going to finish up here. Mind waiting for us outside?”_

_“Yeah, no problem,” Jake shot Dean a smile before stepping out of the chapel. He leaned against the hood of the Impala and closed his eyes, sighing out softly._

_He had just confessed whatever he could think he had done wrong in his life. The priest had listened quietly to everything and once his dad was sure that Jake’s blood was purified, he drew the necessary amount. Jake winced at the initial stab of the needle but knew it was necessary. His mother was a demon and only this could save her._

_He prayed quietly, disregarding the fact that God was currently missing in action, and begged that his mother could be saved from this. He had missed her more than he could fathom and now that he had been so close to getting her back, his father had come bearing the news that she wasn’t exactly herself. “Please, let this work,” Jake murmured as he pulled his head back and looked at the cloudless, blue sky._

_Jake jolted as a black mist approached, recognizing it as a demon coming for him. But before he could say anything, the creature had entered his mouth and taken control. It cackled in his thoughts and Jake screamed and flailed as the demon encased him in a makeshift cage. Jake noticed with revulsion that despite losing all control of his body, he could still see everything that was going on._

_He could see his hands, his legs splayed on the hood of the car. He could see his dad and uncle approaching him with gentle, comforting looks._

_“No, no, no! It’s not me! It’s not me!” he bellowed, nails scratching at the walls of his prison._

_“Oh, they’re your uncle and father?” the demon giggled gleefully. “So, you’re a Winchester? I was wondering who you were. I have never heard of you before. Well, this just got interesting.”_

_Jake thrashed, but he was stuck. The creature was powerful and Jake didn’t have the strength to fight against it. He meekly watched as his body climbed into his father’s car and they left back to the bunker._

_“You know,” the demon made conversation with Jake as he sat trembling in a corner. “Your mother was supposed to bring us your father and uncle, but I always knew she was a weakling.”_

_“Don’t say that,” Jake groaned._

_“She was!” it chuckled. “I mean, if I would have had a say, I wouldn’t have sent her to capture the Winchesters. She’s young, barely a few Earthly years old. She lacks the strength and control of a demon like… say me, for example. I’ve lived for millennia. I can outwit these blithering fools with a snap of my fingers.”_

_“Then do it! Why aren’t you doing anything?” Jake taunted._

_“Because it is not time yet,” the creature clicked its tongue. “Patience, you must have patience. Soon, I’ll capture them.”_

_“You’re an idiot if you think you can beat them! They’re the best hunters in the whole world!” Jake cried out as his body stepped into the bunker along with Dean and Sam._

_“Now, now, be quiet, Jakey,” the demon said with a smile in its voice. “Where is your mother?”_

_Jake didn’t mean to think of the dungeon, it was out of his control. The demon made a pleased noise at this information and made its way to the prison cell._

_Sam was stepping out and he shot Jake a gloomy look. Despite the misery in his eyes, Sam gave Jake a tight-lipped smile. “She’ll be alright, son,” he said._

_“C-Can I go in?” the demon asked in its best impersonation of Jake._

_“I wouldn’t advise it, but she’s your mother,” Sam sighed out. “I guess you could for just a few minutes.”_

_“Thanks, Uncle Sam,” it smiled at Jake’s uncle before opening the dungeon’s door._

_Dean was basically straddling you, a knife to your neck. Jake cringed as he saw the anger in his father’s eyes. He silently begged for him not to hurt you._

_“D-Dad,” the demon’s voice shook, making Dean and you jolt._

_“Oh, look who decided to join in on the party!” you squealed. “Hi, Jake! I don’t think you remember me, but I’m the one woman who was supposed to take care of you, but…” you clicked your tongue, shaking your head. “I didn’t want to, so I just left you at your dad’s doorstep and went ahead and got a life.”_

_“I know that’s not you really talking,” Jake screeched as the demon continued to impersonate him, pretending to be hurt at your words._

_“This is not really me?” you gasped. “Of course this is the real me! This is as real as I get, dear. I loathed you. I hated that you were born and that I had to take care of a brat that couldn’t even wipe himself. You took my liberty away.”_

_“Be quiet!” Dean dug the tip of the blade to your jaw, almost piercing through the skin._

_“T-That’s not true,” the demon shook its head vehemently. “I read your letter. You love me! You didn’t want to leave me. And my dad—”_

_“Your dad?” you scoffed. “Your dad’s a fucking liar. For all we know, he probably wrote that letter himself. What else has he lied to you about? That he loved you? Ha! Dean Winchester,” you shot Dean a pointed glare. “Why must you lie to our little brat like that? You’re not capable of loving anyone but yourself. You’re a selfish prick after all.”_

_“You’re not yourself,” the demon gritted its teeth as Jake continued to scream, trying to get control of his body and show his father that he wasn’t really himself. But yet, the demon continued. “This isn’t you. You loved me!”_

_“Oh, God, please don’t,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “I really didn’t, boy.”_

_The demon pretended that Jake had had enough and ran out of the room. It brushed past Sam and found a room to gather itself up. It cackled approvingly at itself. It had only taken a few seconds to distract Dean enough to smudge the line of the devil’s trap without raising suspicions._

_Jake raised hell in his body, trying to regain sovereignty over it. But it was fruitless. The demon was powerful and Jake had virtually no training in expulsing these creatures from his mind. He watched miserably as it pretended to care for you, hugging you as you woke up from your sleep after being cured, and wishing it was really him who you spoke to._

_The demon personated him for over two days, sauntering through the halls of the bunker as if nothing. Yet Jake knew that his father and uncle suspected something was going on. He almost laughed in glee as he noticed Dean side-eyeing him and narrowing his glare. Yet the creature persisted and soon had convinced Dean and you of letting Jake go out for just a few hours._

_Jake cried and tugged at the control of his body as the demons battled with Dean and Sam. He fought with every fiber of his being as the demon punched Dean’s jaw and his father went tumbling to the floor._

_All Jake could feel was relief as he gained dominion over his body and ceased the rain of punches to Dean’s face. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the knife that his dad had let go of and after telling Dean just how much he meant to him, Jake dove towards the knife._

_Before Dean could do so much as process what his son was doing, Jake had stabbed himself, successfully killing the demon. Jake felt surprisingly peaceful at the thought of these being the last few moments of his life. He felt his father gather him up in his arms and beg him to not give in. Jake tried, he tried with every ounce of strength he could to not give in to the incoming darkness. But he felt tired, the exhaustion seeping into his bones and every nerve of his body._

_He tried to smile at his dad, tried to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he loved him. But he had to close his eyes for just a flicker of a second. And that’s exactly what he did._

* * *

 

_Your voice was hoarse from screaming. Every breath you took hurt you. You had never known this much pain. The agony you felt in hell was nowhere near close to what you were feeling now. Your hands scrunched into fists and you flung them everywhere you could reach. Frustration at your helplessness seeped in with the guilt and sorrow within you, overwhelming you until you could do nothing but dry heave as you sobbed into a firm chest._

_Dean’s tears fell on your shirt, soaking it through as rage and defeat resounded in every fragment of his being. Every beat of his heart pained him, every breath that he took was unfair. He shouldn’t have been the one crying and grieving. It should have been someone else. He begged entities that weren’t around to have him switch places, he’d do anything, give anything. But his prayers fell on deaf ears._

* * *

 

Your fingers traced over the elated faces of the three people in the photograph. You smiled softly as you continued to take in every detail of the picture, from the ugly Christmas sweaters they were wearing, to the silly faces they were making. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes and tried to blink them back. This was no time to cry, you had to be strong.

You stared at the picture for a few more seconds. According to Dean, this had been the first Christmas that Jake had spent with him and Sam. Dean had gone all out to make it really special for him and had even baked cookies with Jake. To this day, you still marveled at the thought of Dean in an apron whilst he tried to make sure the oven was at the right temperature and the cookies a perfect golden brown. You gnawed on your bottom lip, conflicting emotions battling over dominance inside you.

The driver’s door opened and you jumped, being knocked out of your reverie. Dean climbed into the seat and offered you a forced smile. You almost snorted. He looked more constipated than anything. You broke eye contact with him and went back to focusing on the holiday photo. You had missed so much of Jake’s life.

Dean’s hand reached over to squeeze one of your own, fingers intertwining with yours. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked stoically.

“I don’t know,” you answered, voice shattering.

A knock on the window made you jolt from your seat and you groaned as your head hit the roof of the car. Dean chuckled next to you and you were tempted to elbow him in the ribs when the door opened. Your favorite smile was there to greet you.

“Really? You’re in the car crying? You’re going to miss my wedding, mom!” Jake held out his hand, eyes twinkling mischievously as he pulled you up to stand.

“Young man, don’t you speak to your mother that way,” Dean climbed out of the car and shot Jake a stern look.

“Sorry, mom,” he grinned cheekily, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “But, really, we have to get going. The ceremony’s about to start and you two need to walk me down the aisle.”

“Alright, son, alright,” you laughed, looping your arm through his as Dean positioned himself next to Jake.

“Can’t believe you’re getting married, kid,” Dean muttered.

“Who would have thought,” Jake winked at him. They shared a smile before Jake was inhaling deeply as he glanced at the church before him.

“It’s going to be fine,” you looked up at him, tears once again threatening to brim over. “I love you, Jacob.”

“I love you, mom,” Jake said before turning towards Dean. “And I love you, dad.”

“I love you, too, kid,” Dean smiled.

The three of you faced the building and made your way to your son’s wedding and the beginning of the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the story! This was quite fun to write!


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